


Time to Kill

by Rae_Saxon



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Just two two somes, M/M, No foursome, Uhm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22377235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae_Saxon/pseuds/Rae_Saxon
Summary: The Thirteenth Doctor gets a code sent by the Master and is on her way to find out what this evil plan is all about, when she runs into her past self.... who's trying to look into why a mysterious Harold Saxon has suddenly become Prime Minister. A year too early. She needs to keep their timelines intact and luckily, she has always been good at distracting the Master.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), Tenth Doctor/The Master (Simm), The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Simm)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 313





	Time to Kill

She really didn't have time for this.

Well, technically, she had all the time in the world. She had dropped Yaz, Ryan and Graham off home, to do their routine family check ups, and had not planned to leave at all, honestly, it was always a bit risky, trying to get back to the exact time and point she had left from, but _he_ had not left her any choice.

Well, technically, she had the choice to ignore him.

But when had ignoring the Master ever ended well?

Stupid code, she thought, as she raced around the corner of the busy London street. Stupid TARDIS, for not taking her to the encoded coordinates directly, but five streets off. Whatever he was planning, it was probably annoyingly on time and she simply was never....

The Doctor came to a slippery halt, almost running into the man who had been trying to run into the other direction, just as hastily as she was.

“Sorry,” she called, “sorry, sorry, bit of a rush and...” She had just ran off two more steps, when her brain caught up with her feet and she stopped again, this time waving her arms to keep her balance and not fall to the ground.

“Hey!” she called after the man. “Hey, wait... _Doctor_!”

He turned around with his eyes widened, mild curiosity on his pretty face, and a strand of hair falling into his face, that he quickly stroked back again. His brown trench coat was wavering in the wind dramatically – she had always liked it that way – but a friendly smile was on his lips.

“Sorry, do I know you? Have you seen Rose? Blond girl? Pretty? Looking like she just ran into trouble? Because she always does?”

“Uhm. You could say so,” she laughed, almost nervously. She hated meeting herself. This time, it wasn't only annoying, as it always was, as soon as the realisation and the bickering started, it also was dangerous. Timelines crossing, memories he wasn't supposed to know of and.... oh dear, the Master around.

Why the hell had he dragged her here?

“Sorry,” the Doctor repeated, as he liked to do so often. “So, so sorry. You must be a bit ahead of me. Time travel is complicated. I'm sure I'd remember you if I had already met you. Love the shirt though. And the coat.”

The Doctor couldn't help it, she grinned widely.

“You know, I sort of thought you would. Listen, have you seen... uhm... A very charismatic, bearded maniac?”

“Aw, Doctor,” a very familiar, very velvety voice said from behind and before she could turn around, the Master had laid one arm over her shoulder, the other over her past self's and was grinning widely. “You're being too kind. I don't deserve this much praise.”

Her younger self looked puzzled.

“But I... didn't say anything.”

The Master grinned, leaning towards her conspiratorially.

“For someone that smart, you can be quite stupid sometimes, wouldn't you agree?”

She shot him a glare, sure that he had something horrible planned and she was not quite happy to keep it all a secret from herself while stopping him. This was going to be a stressful day.

“Oh!” the younger Doctor called, understanding spreading on his face as his mouth and eyes tore open in excitement. “You're me! But you, you, you.... Ohhh, brilliant!”

“That's what I said,” she smirked. “Was about time, too.”

He watched her with an excited laugh, tearing himself from the Master to turn circles around her. “Look at that! I'm a woman! Never thought I'd see the day, regeneration's a lottery and I keep on losing. Not even ginger yet! OH. Oh. Oh! Have you...”

She shook her head with a sigh. “Still not ginger.”

“Unbelievable,” the Master muttered, staring at his arm that was now leaning over nothing but thin air.

“You know what,” the younger Doctor grinned with new-grown enthusiasm. “I think we can pull it off! We look great!”

“If you think that's great, you should see Miss.....-” She stopped quickly, biting her lower lip, as she pressed her eyes closed, hoping he didn't catch that slip of her tongue. _Both_ of them.

Of course she was hoping in vain. While the Master wiggled his eyebrows with a grin behind him, the Doctor simply looked puzzled.

“Who?”

“Err... forget about it,” the Doctor hastily muttered. “Can't tell you. It's in your future. Risky business, remember?”

“Right,” he smiled, while the Master rolled his eyes. “Gotta be careful.”

“Talking about careful,” he put on his most charming smile, ignoring the Doctor's little glares completely, while turning to her younger self. “You won't believe what I just saw, right around this corner. Five Ice Warriors, just walking down Liverpool Street. Crazy, I know. Should really go check it out.”

“Oh,” the Doctor smiled, turning to his future. “He belongs with you then?”

She opened her mouth to answer, shut it again, opened it again, only to shut it again.

“Uhm,” she finally managed to bring out. “Sure. Why not. That's uhm... my... com... my... That's Secret Agent O. From the MI6. Got sacked for uhm... being a pain in the arse. Now he's with me. _Aren't you, O_?” She hissed at him through gritted teeth.

“Sure,” the Master repeated her own words back at, with a rather devious and utterly untrustworthy smirk. “Why not?”

The Doctor looked from one to the other, utterly confused.

“Okay. Well, then, shall we have a look at that Ice Warriors? I was wondering, you know, there seems to be wrong with history on Earth, too, maybe it's connected...”

“History?” she asked, frowning. The Master rarely meddled with history, that was someone else's thing entirely. The Monk wasn't here, was he? Oh Rassilon, three crazy Time Lords in one spot was more than enough, thank you very much.

“Yeah,” the Doctor replied cheerfully as they started walking towards the general direction the Master had pointed on, while she silently wondered about how to signal herself that this was an awful idea, without giving away who the Master was. “Some new Prime Minister... Head's getting a bit fuzzy, but it feels like he wasn't always part of history, you know? Like something shifted in time.”

The Doctor's head jerked up in alert.

“Prime... What... What year is it again?” Her voice was getting slightly shrill now.

“2007,” her younger self replied with a frown.

The Doctor shot the Master another glare, just for good measure. He was being suspiciously quiet, which seemed to be mostly, because he was so busy shaking with silent laughter.

“Great,” she sighed tonelessly. “Brilliant. Well, I'm sure this prime minister...”

“Harold Saxon,” the younger Doctor threw in.

“Sure,” she replied, suppressing a groan, and instead tried to sound reassuring, nodding heavily. “Harold Saxon, the famous Prime Minister, who, uhm... steered Great Britain into... errr... its ruin. I'm sure you've heard about him before. Everything seems to be in order!”

He frowned.

“Are you... sure? I'm quite sure Harriet Jones was supposed to be leading into the golden age. The awareness of alien life. Britain's ruin was coming far, far later, with Boris Johnson boxing through Brexit, wasn't it?”

The Master was no actively burying his face in the Doctor's shoulder, trembling with the efforts of not bursting out into wild laughter.

Still completely puzzled, the younger Doctor added, “I'd want to at least look into it.”

“Tell you what,” she sighed, resigning to her fate. “You check out the Ice Warriors with.... my friend O here, who will get a grip on himself soon, I'm sure.” She shook him off her shoulder and gave him another glare, as he grinned at her, arms folded before his stomach, the picture of innocence. “... And I look into..... Harold Saxon.”

With a swift move, the Master had laid his arm around her past self again, grinning at him with all his charm, pulling him close, as he winked.

“I think that sounds _utterly_ brilliant, wouldn't you agree, Doctor?”

“Uhm, sure,” he laughed, staring back at him rather intrigued. She could see his brown eyes sparkling and rolled her eyes.

“Behave,” she hissed, not sure which of the two she was addressing – Not that either would listen, anyway.

“Always,” the Master winked, before pressing a swift kiss on the cheek of the Doctor currently trapped in his embrace.

He giggled like a school child.

Oh dear, there was no way this was going to end well – But she couldn't let herself meet that particular Master years too early in his timeline, it would throw her whole future into danger, and therefore put the structure of the universe at risk.

The Master was walking off now, his hand firmly locked around the Doctor's, who stumbled along with a wide grin on his face.

“Pretty,” he mouthed back at her and the Doctor looked back at them, a feeling of absolute dread pooling inside of her.

If these two ended sleeping together – And she knew herself, especially this shamelessly flirty self, they _so_ were – the Master was never going to let her hear the end of it.

She didn't let herself get stopped by any security. Like a hurricane, she walked right into his building, showed her psychic paper to whoever wanted to see it and slammed the door to the office behind herself, before the Master had even looked up.

God, she thought as she saw him sit there, legs up on the table and a bored expression on his beardless face. This sure takes me back.

He looked so young. Back then, that face had given her hope before it had torn it all apart. That face that meant never to be alone again, before it had died in her arms. That face had been all she had craved to see, and all she had dreaded to lose.

The Master looked at her with his eyebrows raised.

“Can I help you?”

“Sure you can, stop being a smug bastard and tell me if there's any chance you have some tea in here, I need something strong. And maybe some Custard Creams. Love those.”

“I only have Bourbons. The Doctor, I presume?”

Spoke for itself, how easily the Master figured out who she was, while she herself took that ridiculously long every single time. Best not to over-analyse it.

“Who else comes in here calling you a smug bastard?”

The Master smirked, turning with his chair slightly left and right, legs still on the desk.

“You'd be surprised.”

She snorted. “Know what? I don't think it's _all_ that surprising.”

“Charming,” he grinned. “Very typical you, this incarnation, by the way. Not quite the Doctor I expected, though.”

She let herself fall on a chair opposite of him, legs dangling as she leaned back, hands in her coat pockets like an impatient child.

“Don't worry,” she said gloomily. “He's coming. I'm just... Basically...” She shrugged, her coat moving with her arms. “Baby-sitting.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Future you thought it was funny to lead past me astray and mix up our timelines. I'm trying to keep him away from you before he spoils himself on your _fortunate_ continued existence a year too early.”

“So you left him with...”

“Yup.”  
  
“Not exactly your most brilliant plan, is it?” the Master grinned and she gave out a glare so dark, she hoped it'd burn into his memory and still haunt him when he was running around chasing non-existent Ice Warriors with her past.

“You know what, Mr. “I'm going to take over the universe with Toclafane”? I believe you should not be the one to speak about the quality of plans.”

“Ouuuh,” the Master snorted. “Rude. Bit stressed, Doctor?”

He pushed his chair away from the desk, foot swinging to the ground as he got on his legs and rushed around it towards her, resting his arms on the back of her chair, his grin right above her shoulder and glaring so broadly, she could almost hear it.

“Let me help you out.”

His fingers suddenly began kneading her shoulders and she wanted to push him away, she really did, but then her thinking stopped, all resistance was massaged right out of her and her eyes fell shut.

It was a bit unfair, that. She didn't particular like touching this incarnation, not that she had told anyone yet. She was pretending to be this hopeful, light person full of warmth, but when she was alone, there was nothing but darkness and loneliness and if she didn't hold her friends on arm-length, she was afraid it would get them, as it had always gotten everyone else sticking around with her.

But this was different. This was the Master. He was made of darkness, and he knew exactly how to touch her, even now, even when their timelines were so out of synch, knew where it hurt and probingly stuck his finger in, pushing the hurt a little deeper, yet _still_ somehow made it feel good.

“See?” he grinned next to her ear and she shivered slightly from the sound of his voice, from his breath on her tender skin there, but refused to open her eyes again, refused to give into the danger he posed _quite_ yet. “Much more relaxed, already.”

His hand was wandering down and her eyes shot open again.

Oh, she thought. No evil plan, just.... Ah well, she thought, as his fingers gently stroked the sides of her breasts.

She did have a little time to kill.

“So, where have they gone?” the Doctor asked, standing on the tips of his toes, trying to overlook the crowd ahead of them, clearly looking for Ice Warriors on the loose.

The Master shook his head behind him, watching him with an amused little smirk. He hadn't quite the heart to inform him there wasn't a single Ice Warrior here.

It was quite simply too adorable.

He had always liked this Doctor. He had the characteristics of an enthusiastic puppy, happy to greet his owner back after years and years of waiting alone, barely scraping through.

“Can't see any,” he turned towards the Master, looking almost upset at the lack of an obvious threat to keep him busy with.

He simply shrugged.

“Probably went somewhere else. Who knows what they're planning.” He switched to 'Agent O's' most charming smile, lightening up his whole face, as he very well knew. “So. The Doctor never told me she was _that_ pretty once,” he winked.

Not that she had needed to.

The Doctor stopped in his tracks, turning around to him with a cheeky little smile.

“Well, I've never been one to brag.”

What a shameless lie, the Master thought, rolling his eyes in his mind, while still giving the Doctor his most enchanting smile.

“Should really change that. Much to brag about, apparently.”

The Doctor laughed.

And they had the audacity to call _him_ arrogant, really.

“So you and her... me.... you're... we... I mean, are we...” He stopped his ridiculous babbling with the wriggling of his eyebrows and the Master suppressed a deeply, deeply-rooted sigh.

Oh, we _always_ are, Doctor.

“Yeah, pretty much. She doesn't talk about it much, but... well... the kissing's nice.”

He pretended to unsuccessfully fight a blush – And the Doctor smiled like a dog that had just gotten an especially big treat. He was so easy to play, that one – Give him a little attention with a pretty face, and he melts in your hands.

“Not sure you can compare, though,” he smirked.

Mouth standing open quite indignantly, the Doctor stepped closer, all of a sudden oozing charm himself.

The Master grinned. Many had fallen to this version of the Doctor, eyes going all cold and blazing with power, lips pulled up to a self-confident smirk, hair gorgeous as always, as his step got wide and slow.

“I'm gonna make you take that back,” he grinned, before pulling the Master in with a grip on his collar, kissing him hard.

His mind spinning and his body screaming “yes” in at least three different languages, the Master kissed him back just as hungrily, before pushing him against a nearby street lamp, people jumping out of the way on the crowded street with outraged shakes of their heads.

They didn't even register them, pressing against each other now, and the Master suppressed a chuckle as he felt the Doctor's very obvious erection on his leg. That was almost too easy but.... Rassilon, he had missed this.

He grabbed his tie and quickly dragged the Doctor with him into a dark, almost abandoned side-alley, hushed two boys away who were playing football, and pushed the Doctor against a wall, pressing flush against him, his own arousal building.

The Doctor grinned, his brown eyes veiled from lust as he looked at him.

“Quite the future ahead of me.”

The Master growled with need at the sound of how husky and hoarse his voice was.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he whispered, before letting a hand wander into his pants, stroking his cock with a heavy moan, while still rubbing against his leg. He was watching the Doctor intently, the way he threw his head back, his eye-lids slowly fell shut, and his lips parted so, so perfectly.

He hadn't exactly planned on coming in his pants like a school boy, but the Doctor's little, needy moan caught him completely off guard and with a curse, he came against his leg, letting his forehead rest on his shoulder, just for a moment, just to regain his breath, before closing his fingers around the Doctor's cock one last time, grasping him firmly and getting him off with a skilled grip.

The Doctor seemed to be seeing stars, muttering something in Gallifreyan, while the Master grinned.

At least he was not the only one coming in his pants, now.

He held his fingers up to the Doctor's lips and he licked them clean with a cheeky grin, before stealing an unusual soft kiss from him.

Bastard, the Master thought. You never kiss _me_ like that.

The Doctor was nibbling on his lower lip, her teeth gently tugging him in, and the Master moaned, one hand underneath her shirt, kneading her breast, as he sat on her lap, eagerly trying to tear her trousers down from underneath himself with the other.

“Suspenders, you idiot,” she hissed breathlessly against his lips and he growled, snapping them off her shoulders before taking care of his own trousers swiftly.

“Impractical,” he managed to reply only slightly too late to still seem coherent, then sank inside her with a relieved moan. She echoed him perfectly, head falling back over the chair, as he thrust into her, not losing any time.

Each of his thrusts pushed her back into the chair, making it wobbling dangerously, but none of them cared, not even when they crashed to the ground backwards. He simply climbed over her, growling as he held her wrists down against the floor, pushing deep inside her as he came, pushing her over the edge with him.

“God, I hate you,” she whispered, some minutes later, as he had sunken together on top of her, breathing heavily, coming down from his high.

The Master laughed, his body shaking pleasantly over her half-clothed body.

“And you just proved that so effectively, Doctor,” he snorted, before kissing her neck. She could still feel his grin on her skin, before he got up, sitting on her hips for a second, beaming down on her.

“Yeah well,” she replied grumpily. “Wouldn't even have gotten to this if your future could just stop... being an idiot.”

But her complain was rather half-heartedly and around her lips twitched a smile, as she sat up opposite the Master, faces only millimetres apart.

He laid his hand around her hip, stroking it gently, before slipping one of her suspenders back onto her shoulder, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

“See you soon, then, I expect.”

“Quite,” she grumbled as she got up, putting her coat back on with a twirl. “He'll never stop being an idiot, after all.”

She let it out in the open to which of the two she was referring to.

It was true for them both, after all.

They met again on the same spot they had met the first time. The Master's broad grin was still far too smug for his own good, but her younger self looked utterly dishevelled.

Well, to be expected. Ice Warriors, hah, don't make me laugh, she thought.

She wasn't in any position to judge, of course.

Naturally, that didn't stop her.

“You have a bit of smudge on your face,” she remarked dryly, but her past self simply raised his eyebrows, looking utterly unimpressed.

“You forgot one suspender.”


End file.
